


(Please Don't) Say Anything

by breakmyreddieheart



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, Reddie, reddie au, stenborough - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-07-27 19:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16225538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakmyreddieheart/pseuds/breakmyreddieheart
Summary: It’s the last days of high school and the Losers are soon to be leaving for university, moving to different parts of the country. Richie is trying to figure out how to tell Eddie how he feels about him, but only ends up making things worse and needs to figure out how to apologize. Bev has a cunning plan, and Richie Tozier gets extra…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you didn’t get it, the title is a reference to the John Kusak film from which the original stereo-over-the-head trope originated from, and basically seeing a Reddie version of that prompted me to write what was originally only intended to be a one-shot but quickly spiraled out of control // Also I’m British and know the bare minimum about the US education system so forgive me if I make any errors!

As the bell rang, signifying the end of the academic year, students gleefully poured from the classrooms eager to start their summer break.

The excitement throughout the corridors of the Derry Regional High School was palpable. Students whooped, ran and jumped around as teachers tried in vain to keep the peace. Lockers emptied, workbooks were trashed, and students poured from the main doors like ants from a nest into the bright summer sun.

Somewhat less enthusiastically, Eddie Kaspbrak emerged from the last exam of his Senior year and pushed his way through the stampede to clear out his locker. He’d spent the last week meticulously studying for this Biology exam, and despite being familiar with all the questions he still worried that he’d messed up somehow. He needed to ace this to get into the University of California.

He’d heard great things about UC; it was one of the best places to study medicine, something he’d wanted to learn more about since finding out how his mother had spent most of his life lying to him about his health. He felt that if he could understand the science behind immunology, he could break her hold over him. Better still, it was in the heart of San Francisco which was about as Liberally removed from Derry as Earth is from Pluto; he could be himself without fear of the likes of Henry Bowers and the rest of the homophobes that Derry seemed to attract like flies to shit.

Of course, best of all, California is the direct opposite end of the country to Derry and the controlling grasp of his mother. 

She had cried when he told her that he’d applied to UC, “You can’t  _leave_  me, Eddie, you need me to  _look_ _after_  you” she kept insisting, trying to work her insidious words into his mind; but Eddie had spent years pushing that door shut and he wouldn’t let her talk him out of this. “I  _raised_  you,  _fed_  you,  _clothed_  you and now you’re just going to  _abandon_  me like this? You won’t  _last_  you know, you’ve always been a fragile boy. You’ll be back here before the end of the first semester and  _I’ll_  be left to clean up the mess.”

He did love his mother, in a way, but he didn’t trust her. Having learned more about his father’s death he could see why she was so protective of him, but he could never forgive her for her manipulative behaviour. He hoped that putting 4000 kilometres between them might improve their relationship.

However, the real reason for choosing UC - the reason Eddie didn’t dare admit, even to himself - was because Richie Tozier had been talking about moving to California for years. Eddie had his reasons for hating Derry, but for Richie escape was a necessity. He rarely talked about it openly, but Eddie suspected that Richie’s biggest fear was being stuck here forever.

But that would be stupid, right? Moving to the other end of the country just to be near his friend? His  _best_  friend, admittedly… but all of the Losers Club were his best friends, why should Richie take precedence? But that was the question that nagged in the back of Eddie’s mind late at night. The question he didn’t dare answer for fear of the implications…

No. He kept himself convinced with thoughts of his career and his freedom. These were things he could explain to people without feeling an asthma attack coming on. Not that he really suffered from asthma anymore - if he ever had - but sometimes when he thought of Richie moving to California without him, he would feel the familiar old tightening in his chest.

His mind was brought jarringly back to the present when he heard a crash beside him as Richie himself came bounding up from behind and slammed his hand on the next locker over.

“Eddie m’boy!” he declared in a mock British accent, “Chin up old chap, it might never happen!”

Eddie realised he’d been staring blankly at the contents of his locker for the last few minutes. His books were neatly stacked and organized alphabetically, and a half-empty bottle of hand sanitizer sat carefully on top of the personal toilet roll he kept in case the toilets were in a particularly bad state. Some of the habits instilled in him by his mother were hard to shake.

“Sorry Rich…it just feels surreal, you know? This is the last time I’ll come to this locker. There’s a lot of ‘lasts’ today and it’s hard to keep up.”

Richie nodded in agreement, “Yeah I’ll be sorry to see that last of Miss Kowalski’s ass. Such a sad day!” He mocked rubbing tears from his eyes, and Eddie punched him lightly on the arm while shaking his head in judgement.

“She’s old enough to be your mother, Richie” Eddie scoffed, packing the last of his things into his backpack.

“Top milf material though, amirite??” he raised his hand for a high five. Eddie rolled his eyes and pushed his locker shut for the last time, leaving Richie hanging as he walked towards the exit.

Richie high fived himself and chuckled as he bounced along after Eddie.

“So how’d it go?” Richie asked, drawing level and ruffling Eddie’s hair, “Can we expect  _Dr Kaspbrak_  to be showing his face anytime soon?”

“I don’t know Richie, it was tough…” Eddie replied honestly, fiddling with the loops on his shorts where his fanny pack used to sit; a habit he seemed to do when he was nervous.

Richie swung his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and pulled him into a playful side-hug. “I’m sure you aced it, Spaghetti. My boy genius is gonna go far!” He waved his free hand in front of them in a rainbow motion, looking proudly into the distance.

Eddie blushed at Richie’s confidence in him, leaning into the hug before instinctively replying “Don’t call me that, Richie. It’s silly.” He loved it really, and Richie knew it. “How about you?”

“I dunno man, I think I overperformed. Old Gladhart can’t handle all of this talent in one sitting.” Mr Gladhart was a classical theatre lecturer, and while he often berated Richie for his crass attitude towards the scripted material, he couldn’t deny Richie’s ability to engage an audience.

“I’m sorry I missed that!” Eddie chuckled, imagining Gladhart begrudgingly marking Richie’s work with the A-grade he undoubtedly deserved.

As the pair walked out of the main doors, the crowd dissipating now, they were greeted by the rest of their motley crew. Mike rushed over and bumped fists with Richie. “Dude! I hear you  _destroyed_  that Hamlet monologue, people are talking about it already!”

“Michael, one does not  _‘destroy’_  the classic works of Sir William Shakespeare” Richie began in a mockery of Gladstone’s poetic mannerism, “one simply adds some  _spice_  so that the audience doesn’t  _take their own lives_  after hearing fifteen renditions of the same tedious monologue.”

While Mike and Richie laughed about Shakespeare, Eddie joined Bill and Stan who were interrogating Bev over the contents of the envelope she was clutching to her chest.

“Come on, just give us a hint, I saw the college insignia on the front you might as well just spill the beans” Stan teased, knowing that Beverly wasn’t giving anything away.

“ _Stan_ , no! I want to wait until we’re all together, this is important to me.” She slipped the envelope carefully into her bag so that they couldn’t see the front again.

“Fine, but this had better be worth the wait” Stan replied, turning to greet Eddie. “Eddie! How did it go?”

“Great, I think.” He didn’t want to think about tests anymore, the sun was beating down and summer felt like it was finally getting started.

“Did Richie’s r-r-revision cards help?” Bill asked, unaware of the can of worms he’d just opened.

“Richie was helping you study  _Biology_!?” Bev and Stan both exclaimed.

“But Richie  _hates_  Biology…” Bev pondered.

“Well I’m sure studying anatomy with Eddie has been on his to-do list for a while now” Stan sniggered. Bev backhanded him across the arm shushing him, and Eddie blushed a deep shade of red.

“It’s not  _like_  that!” Eddie exclaimed, glaring at Bill for exposing him. “He was just showing me some techniques he uses to memorize his lines, and  _yes_  it  _did_  help me remember a lot more than I usually do” he responded snarkily.

Richie had been climbing through Eddie’s bedroom window most nights for the last few years, mostly to study - avoiding bumping into Mrs Kaspbrak who didn’t like the influence Richie had on her son. But some nights Richie would come in and just sit on the bed without talking much. Eddie suspected these were the nights his father was particularly harsh, but Richie didn’t like to talk about his family. Mostly Richie just wanted to be around Eddie, but Eddie suspected he was just the closest of the group to Richie’s house. He didn’t dare think that Richie could actually care about him…

He would make tea and bring it up in Richie’s favourite mug - the one with Eddie’s baby pictures printed on it. His mother had always insisted on having one made for each of his birthdays when he was younger, something she seemed to be less concerned with after his father’s death. Richie liked to joke about what a chubby baby Eddie was, and Eddie just liked that he could make Richie smile again.

But he didn’t want the losers to tease him about Richie, so he kept their nighttime visits a secret - except for Bill. When he began to realise he might care about Richie as more than a friend he needed to talk to someone. Bill and Stan had started dating last year - the Losers weren’t surprised, but Eddie admired their bravery in being so open with their feelings, so he felt Bill might have some good advice. Stan might have as well, but he’d be way too sassy with it, so Eddie confided in Bill alone.

Stan smirked as Richie came over and picked Eddie up from behind, spinning him around before popping him down and leaning on his shoulder. Eddie glared at Stan, imploring him not to say anything.

“Speak of the Trashmouth and he shall appear” Stan quipped. Eddie clenched his fists while Stan gave him a wry wink.

“Eddie Spaghetti just can’t stop talking about me, can he?” Richie teased with a smirk on his face. Stan laughed, maybe a little too hard, and Eddie worried he might die of embarrassment right then and there.

Ben was the last to leave the building and join the group, providing the distraction Eddie needed. Stan looked pointedly at Bev, “Is this  _‘everyone’_  enough now?”

“Ok, ok,” Bev said, rummaging in her bag before pulling out the envelope and proudly flashing the New York Fashion Institute insignia. “I got an unconditional offer, they loved my portfolio!”

Everyone cheered in unison, embracing Bev in a group hug. She was the second to receive a firm offer, Ben already having arranged to study abroad at the School of Architecture in Stockholm. The rest of them would have to wait for their exam results.

Bill was hoping for a place at Boston University to study English Literature. Stan would be joining him to study Accounting, but they had both made sure that they had backup options in close proximity. The group had joked that their place would be the de-facto destination for group reunions.

Mike, meanwhile wanted to stay close-by to help his family with the farm. He would be travelling to the University of New England each week to study Modern History. 

The subject of Richie’s college of choice, however, was still up in the air. Eddie hadn’t managed to get a straight answer out of him, Richie always joking about going to “study Mrs K’s gigantic ass in order to discover new and fantastical species unknown to man.”

Richie had transferred his arm over to Bev now, who he was sharing a cigarette with. “Great job Marsh, got room on your floor for one more?”

Eddie felt his chest tighten. It suddenly dawned on him that he had just assumed Richie would be applying somewhere in California. He’d talked about moving there for years! What if he had been wrong? What if Richie was moving to New York?  _What if I’m moving 4000 miles away from Richie??_

The group laughed and joked about the crappy accommodations they would probably end up living in, but Eddie was distracted by the rock that had just landed in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to ask Richie what he meant by that, but something inside him was paralyzed in fear of the answer.

They left to grab a celebratory pizza on the way home, but Eddie trailed behind, fiddling with the loops on his shorts.

**\- End of Chapter One -**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve made a small amendment to Chapter One - removing the reference to Richie’s mother’s drinking; instead, stating Eddie’s assumption that his Father is hard on him. I was going to just go along with the ‘alchoholic mother’ thing everyone else seems to be doing, but I want to take the Tozier family in a different direction in this AU // Also I’ve actually sat and planned out the rest of the fic - we’ve got 6 chapters, and buckle up fuckers, it’s gonna be a wild ride!

The room was filled with jokes and laughter, but Eddie sat near the corner lost in thought.

Having grabbed an unfathomably large stack of pizzas from Julio’s Pizzeria, the Losers descended upon the Denborough residence to spend the evening celebrating together. Bill’s dad didn’t approve of underage drinking, but he made an exception on this occasion, buying a modest crate of beer for the group.

“What if we don’t like beer?” Ben had asked, being more partial to sneaking sips of the whiskey his mother kept hidden in the laundry closet.

“Beggers can’t be choosers, Benny-boy!” Richie laughed, patting him on the back and handing him an open bottle. “Now, let’s get shitfaced!” He yelled in a questionable Mancunian accent.

“Richie this beer is barely three percent” Stan quipped, “the only thing you’re getting on this is gassy.”

Richie cracked open another one and walked over to where Eddie was sat, gently wiggling the bottle at him. “How about you Eduardo?” 

“I’ll pass” Eddie mumbled, looking somewhat distracted. Riche paused, waiting to be berated for the nickname but Eddie remained silent and continued to stare blankly at the Cheers re-runs playing silently on the TV.

Richie wasn’t sure if he’d done something wrong, but he noticed Eddie had been acting funny since the end of School. Was it something he’d said? While he knew he pushed boundaries sometimes - heck, he outright smashed straight through them half the time - the thought that he might have genuinely offended Eddie left him with an uncomfortable ache in his chest.

As the evening went on, the stack of pizzas gradually shrank and the beers were all drunk. Eddie seemed to lighten up, joining in the conversation and laughing a bit, but he wouldn’t look at Richie despite his best efforts to make eye contact.

Richie excused himself to go for a smoke. “Coming Bev?” he said, looking at her pointedly. She took the hint and got right up, grabbing the last two slices of pizza on the way.

“You snooze, you lose!” she said melodically as Ben and Mike moaned in protest.

Bev caught up with Richie outside on the porch. He’d slumped himself down next to a plant pot which he was using as an ashtray.

“What’s up Tozier?” she asked casually, though he could tell there was concern in her voice.

Richie took a long drag of his cigarette, inhaling deeply and blowing the smoke down between his legs. He couldn’t put a finger on exactly what was bothering him, but all of his worries were starting to vibrate around his head; not in their usual fleeting manner, but so violently that he almost felt like one might punch clean through his skull and take out Beverly on the way.

“Why do I always seem to fuck everything up?” he asked, not looking up from the floor.

Beverly paused for a moment, lighting her menthol roll-up and taking a drag before sitting down cross-legged in front of Richie.

“Ok, therapy is in session. You’re on the clock” she said jokingly, prompting a side-smile from Richie.”Start from the beginning. What did you “fuck up” exactly? Does this have something to do with why Eddie looks like you crapped in his shoes?”

“I don’t know, Bev.” And he honestly didn’t. His mind was searching back over the last few hours, trying to figure out exactly which quip might have caused real offense. “I can’t stand this. I feel like I don’t have much time left with him, and now he’s pissed at me cause I can’t keep my damn mouth shut.”

Bev didn’t respond immediately, she simply sat and let him talk. She was good at listening like that; Richie knew he could tell her anything and she would quietly take in all the facts before giving her analysis. Nothing really phased her. He felt confident that should he ever kill someone, she would be the person he would call to help bury the body. No questions asked.

“He’s amazing you know?” Richie said, taking a bit of the now-cold pizza Bev handed him. “He was so worried about his exam today, but you just know he’s gonna pass with flying colours. Then he’s gonna be off to medical school and his illustrious career as a doctor and I’m just gonna be this person who he used to know.  _Richie Tozier: the one who never left Derry_.”

“Have you  _still_  not sent your applications off?” Beverly asked, stubbing out the remains of her cigarette in the plant pot before pulling another from behind her ear.

“What’s the point?” Richie spat, flinging his hands out in a shrug, sending a piece of pepperoni flying onto the lawn. “Even if I get accepted how the fuck am I going to pay for it? You think my dad would actually help? I’m stuck here, Bev, and you’re all gonna leave and forget about me.” Bev could see he was holding back tears.

“That’s what loans and scholarships are for, Rich” Beverly said, shuffling round to sit next to Richie, letting him lean into her. “You are amazingly talented. And besides, fuck your dad. If I have to sell a kidney or rob a bank, we’re getting you through this one way or another. Can’t forget your annoying ass if you’re indebted to me forever.”

Richie smiled momentarily, before leaning his head on her shoulder. “What the fuck is my life, Bev?”

They sat in silence for a while watching the moths flutter around the porch light.

“How’s your mom doing?” Beverly asked, assuming that Richie’s last question was rhetorical. He let out another breath of smoke, sighing deeply in the process.

“She called the police on me yesterday,” he said soberly. “Saw me in the kitchen and thought I was robbing the place. It took me half an hour to convince the cops that I actually lived there.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Richie’s mother had been diagnosed with early-onset dementia back in February and it was progressing fast. It started with her forgetting to come to one of Richie’s shows, which she usually attended religiously. She was a proud mother and had practically raised Richie alone while his father was away on long business trips. But lately, she had been forgetting who he was entirely. He’d often come home and find her confused and angry, unaware of what time or what day it was.

His father had started working from home, but the stress of the situation was getting to him. He barely spoke to Richie, but when he did it felt like he wasn’t really there; it was as if he was a stranger in his own house. He couldn’t stand to see how bad his mother was getting, so he’d often escape and stay at Eddie’s. Eddie never questioned him too much, he was just there - a soothing presence that made Richie feel safe.

“Have you talked to Eddie about it?” Beverly inquired.

“He doesn’t need to know. No one does, I don’t need them pitying me Bev. I just want some of my life to feel normal, you know?”

“You should tell him, Richie,” she said looking directly at him; her piercing blue eyes lent a certain authority to her stare. “You know he adores you, right?”

“Shut up” he snapped, harsher than was intended. “I’m an inconvenience to him. He puts up with me.”

“That’s not what Bill told me…” she said with a flutter, prompting Richie to choke on his cigarette.

She and Bill were still close. They had dated for a while at the beginning of high school, but Beverly had come to realize that dating boys was not for her. They had ended it amicably enough, but Bill had taken it hard at the time. However, once she’d met Kim, who she was now dating, and Bill had started seeing Stan they began to bond again.

“Wait, what did Bill say?” Richie said hoarsely, stifling another cough.

“Just that Eddie had been talking about you a lot. Like, a lot.”

Richie paused, the thoughts in his head seemingly doubling in speed in reaction to this new information.

“I could tell him… but I don’t want to put that on him. I don’t want him to have to deal with all my bullshit.”

“Richard Tozier, you will be the death of me” Bev pressed one hand to her temple, massaging it in a circular motion. “Listen, you’re in love with him, right? Don’t deny it cause I know you’re full of shit.”

Richie stared at his feet, his silence affirmative.

“Well, would you rather have a superficial friendship based on lies, or do you want to actually talk to him about your feelings and, y’know, have an authentic relationship?” Richie cursed Beverly’s common sense, he couldn’t deny she had a point.

“Ok…” he muttered. “I’ll talk to him.” He felt his heart rate quicken at the thought. 

"What would you do without me, hey?” Bev teased, lightly punching him on the knee. “Now come on, let’s get back inside before Ben puts some god-awful chick flick on.”

Richie chuckled as Bev helped him up from the floor. His head was still spinning, but suddenly the idea of talking to Eddie about everything felt like the right thing to do.

His calm in the eye of the storm.

 

**\- End of Chapter 2 -**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the soul-destroying Alzheimers twist. I made myself cry thinking about the implications. Hope you enjoyed this Richie and Bev bonding time! Let me know your thoughts :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you like angst? Cause I’ve got some good angst for you here. Real melodramatic, like.

Eddie hadn’t felt right all evening.

While he tried to carry on as normal, the concept of Richie moving to New York permeated every thought and left him feeling cold and anxious. As concerning a revelation as this was, he was simultaneously reeling from the realisation of the extent of his feelings for Richie.

He had always had a soft-spot for the Trashmouth. Growing up, Bill had been one of the only people that Eddie was close with; though he was a few months older, Eddie looked up to Bill like the big brother he didn’t have. His relationship with Richie, however, was different; he was more like the annoying little brother Eddie had never really asked for, but was lumped with all the same.

After that summer back in 88′ - the summer which galvanised friendships, yet sat inaccessible on the edge of each of the loser’s memories - he had begun to see Richie differently. While he was loud and obnoxious with everybody, Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Richie seemed to focus a lot of his jokes on him. It made him feel special in a way he couldn’t quite comprehend or explain. Growing up, Bill had been his closest and most loyal friend - he looked up to Bill in many ways - but he never gave Eddie the same feeling of nervous warmth that he felt when Richie talked about this cute cheeks or ruffled his hair.

As the years went by, he had spent more and more time with Richie; many nights studying together or just reading comics on Eddie’s bed and talking about dumb shit. He noticed an ever-increasing list of things that he came to adore; the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his favourite comic book plots, the raspy quality of his voice from smoking an unreasonable amount of cigarettes from such a young age, how he stuck his tongue out when he concentrated on writing new script ideas. Only at the thought of not having Richie in his daily life did he truly begin to appreciate how much the Trashmouth meant to him - and how utterly, ridiculously in love he was.

How had he not seen this sooner!? How had his brain failed to register this important detail??

Except it had. Subconsciously. As he sat in the midst of the Loser’s festivities, he pondered his reasons for choosing the University of California. Sure, it was a good school - but there were plenty of good medical schools in the East. Sure, he hated Derry and how the town seemed to smell like hate and decay - but did he  _really_  have to move to the opposite end of the country to get away from it? And sure, his Mother was frustratingly overbearing - but he didn’t have to move more than a few hours away to really get a good sense of freedom.

No, he was moving to California for Richie Tozier, and only now did that realisation begin to set in. Now, when it was too late to change his mind without raising far too many questions and causing way too much trouble.

“…Eddie?”

But what if he just–

“…Eddie!” Bill yelled as he was waving a hand in front of Eddie’s face, causing him to jump back to reality. “You haven’t had any p-puh-pizza yet. It’s nearly all g-go-hn.”

“Oh…um, I’m not really hungry…” he replied, his stomach churning a little at the thought of food.

“Is everything okay?” Stan asked. He and Bill were knelt either side of the armchair in which Eddie was sat, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Ben and Mike sat across the room playing Mortal Kombat while Richie and Bev were nowhere to be seen.

“You’ve been d-distant all e-eve-ning,” Bill spoke from the other side. The situation felt like a very polite interrogation. The last thing Eddie wanted to do right now was talk about it.

“I’m fine guys, just…I’m just thinking about stuff I guess” he replied, staring at his knees as he spoke.

“Stuff?” Stan scoffed, “Any specific stuff? You know you can talk to us right?”

“Sure, I just don’t want to talk about it right now, okay?” Eddie stood up and went to grab a beer, finding them all empty. He huffed in frustration, he should have just gotten over himself and accepted the one Richie offered him.

“Is it about R-Ruh-Richie?” Bill asked, him and Stan both standing now.

Eddie’s face reddened with annoyance, had Bill told Stan about their conversation??

“No! I don’t want to talk about it okay!?” He raised his voice, clenching his fists at his side as he spoke, tears beginning to burn in the corners of his eyes.

“There’s no need to be like that Eddie, we’re just concerned,” Stan said as if they weren’t the ones pressing Eddie for information. “Richie’s out front with Bev having a smoke, it’s safe to talk.”

Eddie shot a look at Bill feeling a little betrayed. He was only just realising these feelings for himself, he didn’t want it becoming gossip amongst the rest of the Losers.

“Look, I’m just gonna go home” he huffed, grabbing his bag from the armchair. “I’m tired, I have a headache, my mom’s gonna be pissy cause I’m out late, and I  _really_  don’t appreciate you jumping to conclusions about what I’m thinking.”

Bill and Stan paused, looking somewhat shocked at the outburst. Eddie pushed past and headed for the back door.

“So you’re not sneaking out the back to avoid Tozier, then?” Stan said pointedly. Bill elbowed him in the side and followed Eddie out onto the back porch.

“E-Eddie, wait up!”

“I can’t believe you told Stan!” Eddie snapped, spinning round to face Bill before beginning to pace the porch, gesticulating as he spoke. “What part of  _‘don’t tell the other Losers’_  didn’t you get? I trusted you with this Bill!”

“He’s my b-b-boyfriend, Eddie. We tell each other everything.” Bill said, sitting on the bench under the kitchen window. “I’m s-suh-sorry, I didn’t m-mean to u-u-u-upset you.”

Eddie noticed Bill’s stuttering was worse when he was feeling anxious. He huffed a little, still pacing, before moving to sit down next to his friend on the bench.

“I think he’s moving to New York,” he said after a pause, his right heel still tapping involuntarily. “I thought he’d be going to California. That’s why I applied there.”

“I figured,” Bill said matter-of-factly. Eddie felt frustrated but probably more appreciative of how well Bill knew him. “I didn’t think a-a-anyone knew where Richie was guh-going? He’s been keeping it p-pretty quiet.”

“He mentioned to Bev about living with her when she moves…” he said, staring at the floor, the tapping of his heel intensifying.

“Oh, that? I’m sure he was just joking!” Bill insisted, squeezing Eddie’s shoulder. “You know how he is, you can’t take half of what he says seriously.”

“I guess… but don’t you think he would have made a bigger deal of it if he knew we were moving to California together?” He waited for a response from Bill but the pause in conversation confirmed that he had made a valid point that Bill couldn’t refute.

“You should talk to him,” Bill said, leaning forward so that Eddie couldn’t help but look at him. Eddie made to argue but Bill raised a hand to stop him. “I know you don’t w-wuh-want to tell him how you fee-f-feel, but you need to say  _something_ or you’re just going to t-tie yourself up in kn-nuh-nots.”

Eddie sighed, knowing Bill was right.

“Fine, but not tonight. I really do have a headache and I just want to go to bed.”

“Okay, but don’t l-let this eat you up. I’m here for you, you k-kn-now that,” Bill smiled, “me  _and_ Stan.”

Eddie crossed his arms and gave Bill a look, but broke it with a smile and went to hug his friend. Bill hugged him back tightly, giving his shoulders a reassuring squeeze.

“Thanks buddy,” Eddie smiled, breaking the hug and relaxing his shoulders a little.

While he knew Bill was right, he couldn’t help but wonder how he could talk to Richie without giving his feelings away; the last thing he wanted to do was ruin their friendship before leaving Derry. He would try and talk to him, but not tonight. Not while he was feeling so worked up.

“Get home safe,” Bill waved as Eddie made to leave via the side of the house.

“Laters, ‘gaters!” Eddie called, waving back.

“Wh-while, ‘dile!”

Eddie smiled as he walked around the house, checking to see if Richie was still out front. Seeing the way was clear, he made for home at a fast pace, smile faltering as his worries wrapped themselves around his shoulders again.

This was going to be difficult. 

 

**\- End of Chapter 3 -**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short filler-y chapter, this scene ended up being a lot longer than intended and would be too long if I added the next bit too. So I’ll get this out there for now, more soon! Bright side, y’all be getting seven chapters in total now!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a pain to write but I hope it reads okay! I knew I wanted to get from point A to point B with this one, but I hope it was a believable thing? Have a read and let me know!

Eddie took the long way home; the way that took him around the centre of town, past the barrens and down through the train yard. He needed the fresh air. He needed time to think.  _He needed to talk to Richie._

The pounding in his head had subsided a little, but every time he tried to think of the words he might say, a fresh wave of tension would flash over his temples. He resolved to sleep on it and figure it all out in the morning.  _“No problem a good nights sleep won’t fix up some”_  his father used to say to him. He wished it was that simple.

Walking down the tracks of the train yard he thought back to when he would come here as a boy; before the Losers had started hanging out; before he had gotten so close to Richie. He smiled to himself as he thought of the first time that Richie had come too. Until then it had been his private place - the place he came to daydream and listen to the music from the nearby gospel church - but Richie had followed him home one day, insisting that they read the new Fantastic Four comic together. They had run the tracks pretending to be heroes and villains; Richie had voices for all the characters, but the terrible Eastern-European accent he gave Dr. Doom had Eddie in stitches.

From that day on it had become  _their_ place.

They’d hide in train cars and read comics together, throw food out for the seagulls and daydream about hopping a train South and running away together. One day a passing train conductor had waved to them and Richie had flipped him off, causing Eddie to hide and pretend he wasn’t with him. 

 _Good chucks_ , Eddie thought to himself.

He supposed that if he were a more optimistic person, he would have interpreted Richie’s interest as romantic. But he knew better. Richie was quick-witted and impulsive; if he liked Eddie as anything more than a friend he wouldn’t have been able to keep his mouth shut. Besides, Eddie could have sworn Richie would linger a little too long on the comic book pages where Susan Storm was looking particularly busty.

Walking down Neibolt Street, a chill ran down his spine. His pace quickened as he passed a house on the left which he couldn’t bring himself to look at - the house where he’d broken his arm that summer so long ago. The details were fuzzy now, but the thought of that house made him sick to his stomach.

_I’ll blow you for free!_

He shook his head at the thought and broke into a light jog despite the tightening in his chest. He just wanted to get home.

—

“And  _what_  time do you call this?” Sonia’s shrill voice rang from the front room the moment Eddie set foot in the house.

“Sorry mom” he called absently as he made his way directly upstairs, ignoring his mother’s ranting.

“I don’t like this new attitude you’ve gotten, young man, you’ve been spending too much time with that Tozier boy!” she called up the stairs, but Eddie was in his room, door shut before she could finish.

He flopped back on the bed and lay for a second before jumping clean out of his skin at the sound of Richie’s voice.

“Not  _enough_  time with that  _charming_  young Tozier boy if you ask me” he rang in a shrill imitation of Mrs Kaspbrak.

“ _FUCKING–_ ” Eddie screamed before Richie put a hand over his mouth.

“Shh!  _Shhhhh_ … As much as I like getting Mrs. K hot under the collar, it’s probably best if we don’t alert her to my presence” he smirked, releasing his hand and pinching Eddie’s cheek.

“What the  _fuck_  are you doing in my room?” Eddie hissed, batting Richie’s hand away.

“Cinderella left the ball so soon, and I haven’t had my fill of Spaghetti for the evening” Richie grinned, though something in his expression seemed tense.

“Richie, I left cause I’m tired and just want to go to bed” Eddie exhaled, looking at the floor rather than Richie.

“Oh, ok…” Richie said rubbing the back of his head. He was flustered - something Eddie rarely saw. “Can… is it alright if I stay? I don’t really wanna go home yet…”

Eddie looked up to see a glassy expression on Richie’s face. He wanted to ask what was wrong, what was going on at home. He wanted to bury his face in Richie’s chest and hold him. He wanted him to not look at him like that.

“Sure, sure thing Richie,” he said softly, getting up to fetch some spare pajamas and blankets from the closet. This wasn’t the first time Richie had stayed over; sometimes they’d study late and Eddie would make up a blanket bed on the floor. He kept some sweatpants an old shirt that Richie had left one time since his pajamas were too small for Richie, but even those were getting too small for him now.

They got ready for bed in silence, the air thick with unspoken words. Both boys had things they wanted to talk about, but felt constricted by nerves. Lying back in bed, Eddie turned his bedside lamp off, hearing Richie shift uncomfortably on the floor.

“Eds–”

“Richie–” they both spoke in unison.

“No, you first…”

“Oh…I was just gonna ask - and can you  _please_  not mention my mother - what are your plans for college? Honestly?”

Richie was silent for a long minute - something that concerned Eddie more than any joke he could make.

“Honestly? I have no idea.” Richie said after a while.

Eddie sat bolt upright and turned his lamp on, leaning over so he could see Richie. He still had his glasses on which meant he wasn’t even trying to get to sleep.

“ _No idea?_  How can you not know!? You should have applied places by now, you’ve at least applied, right?” he blustered.

“Nope,” Richie said, matter-of-factly. 

Eddie paused in disbelief. He had mentally prepared himself for the idea of Richie moving to New York, but this outcome he was not prepared for.

“Wh…what are you gonna do then?”

“…well I’m not allowed to bring your mom into this, so…”

“ _Fucks_  sake, Richie!” Eddie huffed, throwing his hands up in disbelief. “Do you really have to make a joke about  _everything_? I just wanted to have a serious conversation with you for once!”

“Well it’s better than the alternative,” Richie spoke sternly. This was a voice Eddie hadn’t heard before. “Maybe some of us don’t get to leave, Eddie. Maybe some of us don’t have our whole lives mapped out already.” There was a harshness in his tone that Eddie didn’t like. “Maybe some of us don’t have parents who are just gonna  _throw money_  at our education, Eds. Did you think about that?”

“Richie…” Eddie spoke but Richie cut him off.

“Can it, Eddie, you don’t get to ignore me all evening and then start grilling me about shit I  _clearly_ don’t want to talk about!” Richie was standing now, slipping his boots on.

“So you’re leaving?” Eddie said with a touch of sass.

“Yeah, I can’t do this right now, Eds. There’s too much…it’s too much…I come here to get away from this shit, you know?”

“Richie,  _talk to me_. That’s all I’m asking. Why is that so hard?”

“Yeah? Well, _I’m_  asking  _you_  to shut the fuck up, think you could  _manage_  that?” Richie spat, regretting it almost instantly. Eddie clenched his jaw in shock at how Richie was speaking to him.

They were both standing now, eyes locked in fuming silence. Angry tears burned in both their eyes as they fumbled for the words they needed to say, finding nothing.

“See ya, Eds,” Richie said, turning towards the open window he came in through.

“Oh, walk away then. That’ll solve everything!” Eddie bit.

“Whatever.”

“No! You don’t get to just come and go from my house whenever you feel like it, Rich!” but he was already out the window. “Fine!  _Fuck off_  then, see what I care!”

Eddie slammed the window shut and threw himself on his bed, tears flowing freely now. He felt a wave of nausea come over him, followed by an intense feeling in his chest that he couldn’t place. Panicking, he fumbled in his bedside drawer for his old aspirator. Placing it shakingly in his mouth he pulled the trigger and felt the sensation wash down his throat, easing his breathing some. But it didn’t help like he hoped it would, there’s no medicine for heartache.

 _Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid!_ he repeated to himself. Why had it gotten so heated? Why couldn’t they just  _talk_?  _Why_ –

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on his door.

“Eddie, what is going  _on_ in there? What’s all that _banging?”_

His mother entered without waiting for a response. 

“Eddie are you–” she paused as she saw the tears on Eddie’s reddened face and the aspirator in his hands. “ _Eddie is your asthma back!?_ ”

“Mom, no–”

“I’ll have to call Dr. Adams first thing tomorrow and book you an appointment. You should have told me sooner! I know you don’t want me fussing but if you’re not going to look after yourself then I’m not going to just stand back and let you get hurt. You think you know what’s best for you but I’m your  _mother_ , and I know what’s best–”

Eddie placed his face in his hands as his mother continued on her rant. This was all he needed.

“Eddie.” Sonia spoke sternly, prompting Eddie to look up. He saw where she was looking and his breath caught in his throat. “Why is there a bed on the floor?”

“I…um…” Eddie fumbled for a lie, something he’d never been very good at with his mother, especially when she stared at him so sharply.

“Was  _he_  here? Did you sneak him into  _my_  house?  _Did he do this to you?_ ” Her voice got shriller by the sentence. “I’ve told you time and time again that boy is  _no good_. Honestly, Eddie! I feel like you don’t listen to me at all!”

And he wasn’t listening. Not really. He stared at the window and wished he could take the last day back.

 

\- End of Chapter 4 -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeeze, Scoob. That was a challenge to write! Especially since I hate confrontation. I know they’re both overreacting and dumb, but hang in there it’ll get better. Maybe not next chapter… but we’ll get there. Also, watch out for Mrs. K, she’s not done being a pain just yet!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long to update! Life and stuff I guess, but this is another chapter that worked out longer than I expected, so the graduation ceremony is going to have to be bumped to its own chapter!

_Eddie wakes in a haze, drenched in soft white sheets with sunlight glowing around him. A peaceful bliss enshrouds him as his vision clears to find two hazel brown eyes staring back into his own. Richie Tozier leans in to press a soft kiss to his lips, beaming as he does so._

_“I love your face first thing in the morning, so sleepy and cute,” Richie mumbles into his mouth. Their legs are intertwined, Richie leaning gently on top of him as he traces a finger up Eddie’s forearm, pausing at the palm and interlocking their fingers._

_He can’t remember ever having felt this happy, this peaceful. He wraps his arms around Richie, pulling him into a deep embrace with his face tucking perfectly between neck and collarbone as he takes in the moment._

_“I love you Ri–” Eddie whispers as he pulls away, freezing in horror as he sees Richie’s face. Where before his skin had been flushed and freckled, it has now lost all colour, oozing puss and sagging as if melting from his face. Most of his teeth are broken or missing and his tongue lolls too far out of his mouth, dripping saliva onto Eddie’s face._

_A white-hot fear creeps from his stomach up through his chest, tightening around his lungs and throat like a creeping vine. He goes to scream but finds no air to do so. Frozen in place, he watches in horror as Richie’s eyes open to reveal piercing yellow orbs, his mouth grimacing into a horrific smile revealing rows of sharp, dripping teeth._

_He can’t move. He can’t breathe._

_Cracking open Its jaw with a sickening crunch, not-quite-Richie’s head arches back into a screaming laugh - all too familiar to Eddie._

I can’t move. I CAN’T BREATHE.

_“wE ALl fLOaT DowN hERe” the deformed Richie cackles as his jaw cracks open, revealing strange orange lights within. Terrible lights…_

_(the deadlights)_

“NO!” Eddie cried, jolting back out of his bed onto the floor knocking his bedside table on the way, sending his lamp, drink, and inhaler crashing down with him.

He lay stunned for a second as he tried to make sense of this nightmare, heart racing and trying to catch his breath. Reaching instinctively for his inhaler, he pressed two firm pumps into his mouth and desperately tried to steady his breathing. As he felt his chest loosen he slumped back on the now-damp floor, tears streaming.

_What was that??_

His heart still pounding, he tried to shake Richie’s face from his mind as he got ready for what was already bound to be a stressful day.

“ _Eddie-bear!_  I hope you’re nearly  _ready_  darling,” his mother cawed from the other side of the bedroom door. “I want to leave  _extra early_  to make sure I get a good seat. It’s not every day I get to see you graduate, and  _goodness knows_  if I’ll be able to make it all the way to California for the next one!”

Sonia was never going to let that one go. While she had come to accept that Eddie was moving away, she still took every opportunity to vocalize her distaste for the idea.

“Sure ma, I won’t be a minute…” he replied carefully, trying to mask the panic still twitching inside of him.

But this was stupid. To get so worked up about seeing Richie again. It had been five weeks since their fight - five weeks of avoiding each other and faking more illnesses than even his mother could dream up. Bill and Stan had tried several attempts to get Eddie to talk about it, but he brushed them off with vague excuses each time. Now, this horrifying image of the not-quite-Richie settled at the back of its mind, perching uncomfortably over the memories of his friend like some foul, black bird holding on just-too-tight with Its rough, calloused talons.

Straightening up his tie, he took a moment to catch his breath as he studied his reflection in the closet mirror. The bags under his eyes were beginning to look like bruises, and his bottom lip was chapped and sore from nervously chewing on it. Truth be told, he looked a mess, but it was better not to keep his mother waiting. All he had to do was turn up, graduate and get home without bumping into Richie. Easy, right?

_Right?_

***

“I can’t do this, Bevvie…”

Richie was pacing again. Beverly studied him as she sat on the windowsill of his bedroom, carefully blowing cigarette smoke out into the morning air. His hair was a disheveled nest, and he rubbed at the patchy stubble on his cheeks as he paced the little floor-space his modest room had to offer. He clearly hadn’t showered in a few days, and she was fairly convinced that he hadn’t changed out of his PJ bottoms and that ratty old Pink Floyd t-shirt in a while either.

Of all the Losers, she felt like Richie was the only one she could truly read like a book. To the untrained eye, he was a carefree goofball - all jokes and bad impressions. No one could deny he was intelligent either, he excelled at school and finished top of his theatre class - although it was for that reason Beverly knew there was more to Richie Tozier than met the eye. He was a superb actor, and his best role was played out day-to-day for a whole-world audience. But Beverly wasn’t fooled, she could see past the façade to the boy underneath. Just a boy who was scared - so goddamn scared of the future that it was paralyzing. His mother, his education, his sexuality - all things he was so terrified to approach that he buried them so deep that even he himself might be fooled into thinking everything was A-OK.

But Beverly saw through it all, and this morning she could see the cracks in the façade reaching their breaking point.

“Richie, come here,” she said, not unkindly but with authority.

He continued to pace, waving a hand vaguely in Beverly’s direction as he muttered something to himself.

“Richard. Approach.” This time she was louder, and Richie’s gaze snapped to her in surprise.

“Sir, yes sir,” he said, lifting his waving hand to a mock salute. But there was something missing, Beverly sensed. Some conviction that’s absence left the delivery much heavier on the heart. Her boy was hurting bad.

As he approached she pulled him in close, turning to grasp his hips between her knees. She rested her hands on his cheeks and brought him in to kiss him on the forehead. It was a gentle, lingering kiss, and as she pulled away she felt the tension drain from his body as if she had released some invisible pressure gauge on his subconscious. Popping her cigarette in his mouth, she encouraged him to take a drag. He leaned over her to exhale out the window and moved into a silent embrace, resting his chin on her shoulder as she rubbed the small of his back.

This kind of wordless exchange was not uncommon between the two. All of the Losers shared an intimacy that was unusual to outsiders, but Richie and Bev had a special kind of bond that transcended verbal communication. Beverly knew how to calm him down, and right now he sure as shit needed that.

A couple of minutes passed in comfortable silence as Richie finished the rest of the cigarette, careful to blow the smoke out the window. His parents probably knew he smoked, but he was sure they would wig out if they caught him doing it inside the house. Best to be safe.

“Your mom seemed well this morning,” Beverly spoke after a while as Richie stood back upright.

“Yeah, she’s been better this week. Dad didn’t want her to come today, but she insisted she couldn’t miss it.” He stared absently out the window as he spoke as if accessing an area of emotion he could only address from a distance. “Dad says she shouldn’t be over-exerting herself, but I think he’s just ashamed. Ashamed of what people might think.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Richie,” she said, gently stroking his arm. “People are going to notice eventually, and when they do I can’t imagine they’ll be anything but supportive.”

“That’s just it,” he said, finally making eye contact. “He’s proud. Too proud for the sympathy. Ashamed of his sham of a family, ashamed of his queer, theatrical son. I’m sure he’d up and fucking leave us if he wouldn’t be so ashamed of himself.”

Beverly listened. She knew Wentworth Tozier could be distant, but she couldn’t reconcile the man she knew with the picture Richie painted of him. She couldn’t help but think he was painting from the palette of his own doubt and insecurity. But now wasn’t the best time to address that.

She squeezed his hand as she rose to her feet.

“C’mon sweet, let’s get you showered. You smell like you crawled out of Satan’s asshole, and I just got a noseful.’ Richie cracked a smirk at this and gently flicked her on the nose.

“Thanks, Bevvie, you’re a real charmer you know that?” They laughed together and Richie went to clean himself up. 

The sound of a car approaching caused Bev to pause before lighting her next cigarette. Looking out the window she saw Mike pulling up in his dad’s old pickup.

It was old. Old enough for the sound of the shuddery engine and squeaky brakes to be recognizable from a mile off - if the wind were blowing in the right direction. Will Hanlon had replaced it long ago with a more reliable model that didn’t take quite as much good luck and elbow grease to get started, but Mike had worked all last summer on fixing it up and it was as good as his now. It ran smoother now than it ever had in Mike’s lifetime, even if he did have to pause for a few silent prayers before turning the ignition.

Beverly gave him a coy wave before moving to gather her things. She rapped on the bathroom door a couple of times as she passed.

“Come on Trashmouth, our rides here!”

“I am very naked Beverly,” he called back, “I’m pretty sure they don’t let you graduate naked.”

“Only one way to find out!”

Richie chuckled to himself as he heard Beverly head downstairs to be fussed over some more by his mother. Maggie loved his friends, but he’d been hesitant to bring anyone home since she got so bad. She was in her element today, however, making cookies and squeezing fresh lemonade ready for Beverly when she arrived to get ready. 

_Just like she used to do for me and Bill when we were kids…_ Richie pondered, wondering whether she knew him and his friends had grown up now.

He didn’t want to think about it. That would mean he would have to eventually talk about it, and it would be real, and everyone would see how terribly he’s dealing with it. How badly he’s fucked everything up.

_It’s okay, we can salvage this_ , he thinks to himself as he checks his reflection in the mirror. A quick buzz with an electric razor deals with the stubble, but the eye bags aren’t going anywhere.  _Not great, but it’ll do. Not like Eddie is even going to look at you anyway…_

He shook his head, trying to brush off the negative train of thought. 

_Positivity, Tozier. Positivity._

He hadn’t meant to snap at Eddie. He wanted to talk to him. To tell him everything, but every time he felt the words forming they tripped and fell into a stupid joke or sarcastic remark before his brain even registered what his mouth was doing. 

It’s not like Eddie wouldn’t be supportive - quite the opposite… but that’s the problem. If he started talking about it, then he might not stop. He might say everything on his mind, and his feelings for Eddie would break loose in the unfiltered barrage of his thoughts. And then what? Eddie would surely never speak to him again if he knew how he felt about him. Never let him sleep over again, or lay on his bed watching him study. Definitely not pick him up and tease him like he so loved to do. But he’d lose all that soon anyway. After the summer Eddie would be moving away to his new life. He had to say something soon. But how?

Absentmindedly pulling his clothes on, he muttered to himself, practicing ways to broach the subject.

“Eddie, I’m in love with you.” 

_No. Too blunt._

“Are you tired? Cause you were running ‘round my head all night - and let’s face it, you’ve got pretty small legs.”

_Jesus, no._

“Hey short-stuff, I’ve been in love with you since Grade 6. Please don’t break my heart and leave forever!”

_I am so fucked._

Throwing a loose tie around his neck, he grabbed his graduation robes and made his way downstairs. Hopefully Mike would know how to tie this thing properly.

Hopefully Eddie would at least talk to him today.

_Hopefully I won’t fuck this up again._

**\- End of Chapter 5 -**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will he fuck this up again? Find out next time when I get my act together and bash out another chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback appreciated! Hope you enjoyed :3


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